But, although they worked so tirelessly and earnestly, it was not all plain sailing with the girl campaigners.  Yet though they met with many rebuffs, they met very little downright impertinence.  Twice Louise was asked to leave a house where she had attempted to make a proselyte, and once a dog was set upon Beth by an irate farmer, who resented her automobile as much as he did her mission.  As for Patsy, she was often told in the towns that “a young girl ought to be in better business than mixing up in politics,” and she was sensitive enough once or twice to cry over these reproaches when alone in her chamber.  But she maintained a cheerful front; and, in truth, all the girls enjoyed their work immensely.

While Beth and Kenneth were in the garden this sunny afternoon James came to say that a man wanted to see “one of the politics young ladies.”

“Shall we send him about his business, Beth?” asked the boy.

“Oh, no; we can’t afford to lose a single vote.  Bring him here, James, please,” said the girl.

So presently a wizened little man in worn and threadbare garments, his hat in his hand, came slowly into the garden.  His sunken cheeks were covered with stubby gray whiskers, his shoulders were stooped and bent from hard work, and his hands bore evidences of a life of toil.  Yet the eyes he turned upon Beth, as she faced him had a wistful and pleading look that affected her strangely.

“Afternoon, miss,” he said, in a hesitating voice.  “I—­I’m Rogers, miss; ol’ Will Rogers.  I—­I s’pose you hain’t heerd o’ me before.”

“I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Rogers,” replied the girl in her pleasant voice.  “Have you come to see me about the election?”

“It’s—­it’s sump’n ’bout the ‘lection, an’ then agin it ain’t.  But I run the chanct o’ seein’ ye, because we’re in desprit straits, an’ Nell advised that I hev a talk with ye.  ‘Frank an’ outright,’ says Nell.  ‘Don’t beat about the bush,’ says she.  ‘Go right to th’ point an’ they’ll say yes or no.”

Beth laughed merrily, and the boy smiled as he wielded his brush with delicate strokes.

“Ye mustn’t mind me, miss,” said Will Rogers, in a deprecating tone.  “I’m—­I’m sommut broke up an’ discouraged, an’ ain’t th’ man I used to be.  Nell knows that, an’ she orter came herself; but it jes’ made her cry to think o’ it, an’ so I says I’ll come an’ do the best I kin.”

Beth was really interested now.

“Sit down on this bench, Mr. Rogers,” she said, “and I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

He sat down willingly, bent forward as he rested upon the garden bench, and twirled his hat slowly in his hands.

“‘Taint easy, ye know, miss, to say some things, an’ this is one o’ the hardest,” he began.

“Go on,” said Beth, encouragingly, for old Will had suddenly stopped short and seemed unable to proceed.

“They say, miss, as you folks is a-spendin’ uv a lot o’ money on this election, a-gittin’ votes, an’ sich like,” he said, in an altered tone.